


Dragon Hunting

by oopsallspiders



Category: Original Work
Genre: Dragons, Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:02:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23821261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oopsallspiders/pseuds/oopsallspiders
Summary: Alone in the land between realms, Alya desperately searches for the only thing that can save her family. If the Far Wood doesn't kill her, the dragon probably will.
Kudos: 3





	Dragon Hunting

She shivered and pulled her long sleeves over her forearms. It didn’t help, not really, but Alya dared not chase away the strange chill mist by calling Fire. Not here. She had spent her first day in the Far Wood tumbling over hillsides and through thickets, trying her best to get her bearings and find the Waystones. With the onset of evening, her unbroken boots burned her feet, and her mud-caked travel cloak pulled at the shoulders. Her backside was still wet from falling into that grimey creek. The mist just made everything worse. 

She took a deep breath, trying to find her center. She was Alya ar-Daraset, the daughter of a Dragon Lord, she was not going to be humbled by mere mud and pain. Even if they did make her feel absolutely miserable.

After another hour of stumbling through the mist, she could barely see five paces before her. She hadn’t seen a Waystone for hours. The fear hovered at the edge of her mind, but she would not give in, she was Alya ar-Daraset. Her family needed her. The Magisters of the Imperial Academy had trained her. She was not lost.

She sighed. She was lost. Gods be damned. She was lost. 

Not one to give into dread, she decided to make camp. Even in this simple act there was danger. Nothing was safe in the Far Wood. Still, in this she had weeks of practice and now rote memory to rely on, it was a good guard against fear, but not against making mistakes. She couldn’t afford to mistakes. Alya set her pack down and drew out a check list. 

First, take out the camp markers and set them at six-points. 

She nodded at no one in particular, and removed the draw bag from top of her pack and took out the camp stones. Each was no bigger than a gold imperial, but the smooth river stones had decent weight, and the sigils carved into them gave each a pleasant texture as she ran her thumb over them. 

Alya paced out a hexagon, placed a stone at each vertice. When she was done, she took her place back at the center and consulted her list.

Next, call the elements in the following order: Earth, Air, Water, and Fire. Anchor the callings to the camp stones. 

Alya set the list down on the pack, and began to call. Still hesitant to shout while in the Far Wood, her Callings were mere whispers a quiet counterpoint as she deftly moved her hands through the ancient passes. The Callings were the most basic rudiments of magic, but to call an element before casting a more advanced spell lent it power. To call them all wove her magic deep into the world around her. 

With Earth, the stones embedded themselves into the soft ground around around her. With Air, that dreadful mist rolled out away from her. When she waved her hands to call Water, the ground beneath her feet grew firm as the mud retreated. Finally, with Fire, the chill retreated.

Checking her list, she then went through a series of higher incantations to lay upon the stones. She cast spells which hid her place from sight and smell. Then spells which guarded from rain, wind, and vermin. Each she laid with precision at the six points, nodding to each of the camp stones in turn like acquaintances passed on the road. 

With her checklist complete, she removed her travel cloak, and summoned a merry little flame to keep her warm and cook her meal. She even allowed herself a leisurely yawn. For the first time today, Alya didn’t feel watched. Still, she didn’t feel safe. She wasn’t safe. 

Safety was an illusion in the Far Wood, even behind her wards. The strange land somewhere at the edge between this world and the spirit realms was dangerous. Although most wizards who travelled here returned safely, this was not a trip taken lightly. She had spent weeks preparing, but it should have been months. She didn’t have months. Sooner or later, the other Dragon Lords would discover that Daraset, her family’s Great Dragon had died. Without their ancient guardian, her house would be crushed by its enemies. Her father and the rest of the family were counting on her. 

Alya took a long swig from the watered wine she carried, and returned to study her map. She had marked off every Waystone she had found, noting the relative time of day so she could keep track of her pace. She had been mostly successful in staying on the path her family had provided, but direction was a tricky thing in the Far Wood, so half the stones marked had not been intended destinations. By her accounting, she had lost more than two hours when she wandered too far to the east around noon. She had three days before her mother and brother re-opened the portal. 

Alya took another long sip, and wished the wine wasn’t so well-watered. Even with that setback she had been making good time. But sometime in the late afternoon the fog had blown in and she lost track of both the sun and the Waystones entirely. Hopefully, she could find her way in the morning. If she couldn’t, or if she had lost too much time, she would miss her rendezvous and…

No use thinking about that. She was Alya ar-Daraset, daughter of Lord Idaris and heir to the house, she would not fail. 

The next morning, Alya set out as as soon as there was light enough to see. To her luck the dawning sun had dispersed the evening’s fog. By the time she found her next Waystone the sun shone high in the canopied sky. 

The Waystone was a little gray plinth anchored in a clearing. Ancient spells warding the stone from wear and creeping vines buzzed in the back of Alya’s mind. She bent down to read the inscription, ‘Laid by Keth ar-Zarexia, DI 217.’

Alya furrowed her brow, the name ar-Zarexia was unfamiliar. The name didn’t belong to one of the Waystones on her path, nor did ar-Zarexia number among the great houses of the empire. Unfurling the map, she began to search for it, and hopefully try to regain a semblance of direction. 

After finding nothing near her intended path, she began to scan wider areas. Soon her eyes were casting all over the map. Nothing. When she set the scroll down again the sounds of the Far Wood were drowned out by her pulse thumping in her ears. Ar-Zarexia was nowhere to be found.   
Alya closed her eyes, and tried to center herself. She couldn’t steady her breathing. Her heart wouldn’t slow from a panicked gallop. How could she be this lost? How far had she wandered? Was she even on the damn map anymore?

She took a deep breath and crouched down, letting the map fall to the forest floor beside her. She hadn’t wandered off that far. That wasn’t right. That wasn’t logical. There had to be a better explanation. 

The Far Wood had been explored in stops and starts, a thousand expeditions over centuries by wizards from a myriad of houses. Each used Waystones to mark our their paths. None of the houses shared their findings, not completely. So it stood to reason that not every house had a complete map of the Waystones laid over a section of explored forest. She wasn’t lost, well not completely, her map was faulty. Had to be it.

Alya stood up, her breathing slow and even. She would simply need to keep traveling in the general north eastern direction and hope she could re-acquire her path. She could do this. She must do this.

Alya pulled out a set of chalk, and began to mark trees. It was dangerous to leave a trail in the Far Wood, but she needed to make sure she wasn’t going in circles. 

_You are lost._

It was almost noon, when the mental whisper slid into her mind. She stopped up short in a clearing and cast about. Nothing moved. For a moment she wondered if she had imagined it. Despite hours of searching she had yet to find another Waystone, and it was setting her nerves on edge. But, the goosebumps that raced across her skin told the lie. There was something out there. “Show yourself.”

The Far Woods maintained their usual eerie quiet, but just at the edge of her mind, she could feel something. Curiosity? Anticipation? 

Alya called Air and ran a breeze through trees around her. As the leaves shivered, she saw something out of the corner of her eye startle and retreat behind a set of branches. She turned and spoke more forcefully, “Show yourself.”

Wide golden eyes opened between the leaves and blinked, a small reptile face peaked out. With slow deliberate steps, a long bodied lizard slid out from between leafy boughs and crossed towards the wider branches. Its iridescent scales seems to pick up the greens and browns of the oak behind it, making it difficult to see as it scuttled down the trunk beforing pulling itself onto a low hanging branch. 

The creature inclined its sinuous neck toward Alya, before giving a shiver, and unfurling large bat-like wings behind it. Again, its wide golden eyes opened and fixed Alya with an impassive stare. 

Alya blinked, though it was no bigger than a housecat, the creature before her appeared to be a dragon. But that was impossible...

_You are lost?_

Ice ran down Alya’s spine as the creature whispered into her mind again. She fixed the little lizard with a defiant glare and stuck out her chin, “No. I am not lost.”

The creature’s head listed to one side like a confused dog, _Not lost? But I smell fear and confusion._

Alya grit her teeth, the Far Wood held elemental spirits, demons, and other strange monsters, she could not show weakness, “You are wrong little one. I am not afraid, and I am not lost.” Slowly her hand moved to the iron rod at her belt. It was a potent focus for spells against spirits, but calling that much magic in the Far Wood could draw attention from things far bigger than… this.

The creature gave a protesting snort. _I am not little!_

Alya was briefly reminded of her brother complaining when he was sent to bed early. She favored the little creature with a smile and a bow, “As you say. But, I must be going.”

_Where are you going?_

Alya bit down on her rebuke before it passed her lips. Arguing with a spirit in the Far Wood was dangerous. On the other hand, she was very desperate, and very very lost. So perhaps it was worth doing something even more dangerous, “Well… I am looking for something.”

_What are you looking for?_

“I seek a dragon.”

The creature shook slightly and clambered up into a perching position. Dramatically it thrust out its wings in either direction, and looked skyward, doing its best impression of heraldry. _You have found what you seek. I am a dragon!_

Alya eyed the creature dubiously. While she had seen the hatchlings of lesser dragons, those creatures were no smarter than horses, only the Great Dragons could speak in minds like their sister elemental spirits. And Great Dragons were… bigger. Even the smallest on record was larger than a hundred oar galley. This was probably some trickster spirit. Still… even trickster spirits could bargain.

“You are not the dragon I seek.”

The little creature’s wings sagged, before it delicately folded them behind its body. _Who do you seek?_

“I seek Naravet.”

The creature snorted and flicked its head up. _Naravet? She does not like mortals. Do not look for Naravet. She will gobble you up._

The creature was probably right. Her family had known the name of Naravet for more than a century after they bound her sister, Daraset. It is said that to know a Dragon’s name made the binding easier. But, Alya grimly reflected on the names of a few ancestors who had died for trying. Despite all that, knowing the name of a Great Dragon and where it dwelled was still the best chance they had. Desperation made people do dangerous things. 

Alya let her hands fall to her side. With slow patient gestures and near silent words she pulled on the Air she had called to rustle the trees and began to work invisible lines of magic between her and the creature. When she spoke again, there was magic that lent a small echo to her voice, “I seek Naravet. What would you take to show her to me?”

Alya could feel the soft fuzzing of the creature’s mind as the magic began to wind around it. Spirits could be compelled to bargain for a service. While they would speak true in their terms, such bargains were always dangerous. Few ever knew the full measure of what they asked for. 

The creature’s viewed her with half-lidded eyes, its mind-voice was soft. _I desire something both shining and dear to lead you to Naravet._

Alya frowned for a moment, puzzling through the creature’s response. Spirits rarely spoke plain, but unless they asked for something impossible, it was likely something easily in view. Alya groaned when she realized it probably meant the ruby ring she work on her middle finger. It had been a gift from her mother upon her graduation from the Academy, but the ring fit the request well. A small price to pay to save her family. 

Alya pulled the ring off, and held it up, “Will you take this ring, both shining and dear, to safely lead me to the place where Naravet dwells?”

The creature blinked slowly. Yes. In a flash it dove from the branch, sailed through the air, and plucked the ring from her hand, before wheeling about on glittering wings and diving through the wood.

_Follow me!_

Satisfied but with a small pit of dread in her stomach. Alya ran after it. 

Spirits, even those that dwelt in the Far Woods were not truly of this world. Though they might look like living creatures, their bodies were more pure element than flesh. Alya wished this particular spirit understood that flesh could not run forever. 

“You must stop!” Alya was able to gasp out her words as she collapsed against a tree stump. 

The little creature circled above her like a vulture. _You bid me lead you to Naravet._

“Safely,” Alya’s hands felt thick and numb as she pawed open her waterskin, “If I die of exhaustion in trying to reach this place, you have failed at your bargain.”

The creature alighted upon the stump to stare at Alya with its wide gold eyes, its slitted pupils widened. _You are flesh not air, but you take much wind when you run._

“Aye, I must breath and eat and drink. It is our way.”

_You will give Naravet flesh if you find her. Make her eat and drink._

Alya glared at the lizard, “If I am slow, and she gets me, yes I suppose.”

 _No._ The creature scratched its long silver claws into the stump. _If she gobbles you up she has something to burn. Not give. Not flesh. You want to give her flesh. Bond with her. Take her away. Make her die._

Alya stopped drinking from her waterskin to look up at the creature. It continued to scratch impatiently and stare expectantly. “You are right. I do wish to bond with her, but I do not wish to kill her.”

The creature snorted. _You lie. All flesh dies._

Alya bit her lip, she could feel the magic line between her and the creature go tight and thin, “I do not lie,” despite her gasps slowing, her words were still soft and deliberate, “to live may be to die, but the Dragons gain much from the bonding including a life far longer than mine will ever be. I do not seek to kill her.”

_What do we gain from bonding?_

We? Though she felt the magic link between them slacken a little, Alya remained wary. Magic bargains usually enforced truth in an elemental spirit alongside the terms of a deal. But the creature continued to play its game. Demons, though spirit in essence, carried within them a certain darkness and a capacity to lie. If she had yoked herself to something foul, her plan was even more dangerous and stupid than she thought. Still, she could feel the power of the bargain held. 

“I will tell you of the bonding, but we must continue, and slower this time.” 

The little creature bowed slightly before leaping into the air. With the magic of elemental Air, its flight was lazy and slow. Like a bird swimming through water, it soared in small lethargic circles as it flew forward. 

“When a Great Dragon bonds with a wizard and leaves the Far Wood, it gives up some of its elemental power in exchange for a true physical body and a measure of the wizard’s spirit. But it gains much in return. I am told existence here is slow, and joy small and fleeting. In the empire a Dragon gains much new sensation, the taste of food, pleasure in flying over new lands, and a share of the life and joys of the wizard it is bonded to, and the same for every wizard it is bonded with thereafter. Moreover, a Dragon in our world has the gift of life. It can lay eggs.”

The creature gave a tiny squawk as it wheeled about and began flapping before her like an irate seagull. _Lesser Dragons! Small, stupid creatures of flesh! What good are progeny such as these?_

Alya shrugged, “I am told that their mothers love them just the same.” 

_Love?_

“Aye. They love them. Though their spark of fire and air is small, it gives them flight and firey breath. This seems to be enough for the Great Dragons.”

The lizard flapped away, taking a slow cruise in the high canopy, nearly invisible. Its mind-voice was distant and sullen. _I do not believe you. Who told you of these things?_

“My father. He was bonded to the Great Dragon Daraset.” Was. Daraset was dead, and after a wizard bonded with a spirit, he could not do so again. If he ever woke, her father would be a lesser man. 

_Daraset was slow. Her sister is faster._

On and on she walked, passing not a single Waystone on the strange a circling path she was led. As darkness fell the mists rolled back in. Alya bade the creature stop so she could rest for the night, buts its response chilled her. 

_If you wish to stop, I cannot keep our bargain._

So she pressed on. As it grew darker and darker Alya called Fire to light her way and used its power to weave spells that burned away her exhaustion. She could for days like this, but the danger grew. 

The hills grew endless, and while she could not tire, her body began to feel leaden and numb. Another hill crested and her boots began to stick in heavy mud and the slosh of a slow moving creek. In time the chill water soaked through her boots but rose no higher than her ankles.   
A wrong step brought her crashing down into the mire. Alya shouted as icy water ran over her skin and soaked through her cloak. The lizard was no longer visible through the dense fog, though she could feel their link, distant and thin. 

She tried to rise, but slipped again, sloshing cold mud over her chest and onto her chin. She pulled herself up to one knee. She was Alya ar-Daraset. She would get up again. She had to get up again. She was Alya ar-Daraset. She would not fail.

She rose again with a groan, and began to hobble forward through long thin branches and thick mist, but her boots suddenly held fast. As she tried to bring her leg out of the muck, but she felt it could not move. Panicked Alya tried to reach down but the long thin branches that had brushed against her arms pulled at her like chains. Even as she tried to lean this way or that, long vines held her tight. 

_A mortal thing wanders far beyond its gates and screaming stones._ The voice whispering between her ears was smooth and deep. Hardly the mind-voice of the lizard far above.   
Alya tried to call Air to drive away the mist and see what spoke, but her fingers were stuck among the vines and branches. With a final low whisper she beckoned the little light forward, the last spark of the Fire she called.

As the pale globe of light bobbed forward, Alya saw that the branches at her hands and legs weren’t branches at all, but instead were goey crystalline strands stretching off into the mist.

_The mortal thing calls Fire. We do not like Fire. Though it keeps the mortal thing warm. We like our waters warm and sweet. Flesh keeps waters warm._

From the darkness and the mist, Alya could see something moving along the strands. Through from the corner of her eye she watched it came closer. Its black chitinous body was bigger than a horse, but its legs were impossibly thin like spun glass. It regarded her with dozens of ruby eyes. While its movements were slow and deliberate as it lowered itself from among the trees, Alya saw that its body writhed. 

No, not its body. Something on its body. Between its many eyes and all over its back, hundreds of fat black worms crossed over each other in a nauseating array. Alya tried to turn her head but that too was stuck fast. She could only shut her eyes. But she dare not.

_My little ones and I, we are thirsty. It has been too long since we tasted sweet waters under mortal flesh._

“Wait! I… I am not worth eating.”

_Eat? What is eat, we need only drink our fill._

“Drink then! I have things far sweeter than my blood. Wine and honey! I can make them warm. As warm as you desire. Will you bargain?”

_Bargain? You would give me wine? Honeyed wine is not the kind of sweetness we desire. Though we do like it warm. But fear makes you warm all the same._

As the monster approached Alya watched as two very human-looking hands reached out from beneath the creatures belly. They were black chiton, and twitched with every step the creature made toward her on its glassy legs. 

_We like it warm._

_I will make you warm!_ With a piercing cry, the lizard came diving out the canopy. From its tiny face blossomed a long line of fire so bright Alya’s eyes filled with tears. The lizard buzzed over the monster’s web, spraying a line of fire on and on in a continuous jet rending the delicate strands in a white hot blaze. 

_Filthy creature of Fire!_ The monster gave a high pitch buzzing whine as it sprayed a line of inky black out at the lizard. Whatever it was held a caustic stench, but the line was far too slow. Like a streaking falcon, the lizard darted upward and beyond the spray. Before twisting in the air and jetting forth blue white fire on the spider-beast itself. 

_I am Fire and I am Air. This one is mine._

The spider-beasts’ worms bulged and burst, popping like slugs thrown over a roaring campfire. The chiton of its mother began to crack like over cooked pottery, and it gave an almost human scream before it tumbled off the net into the mud below. 

With the web’s tension gone, Alya tipped face forward into the mud. Momentarily blinded, she lay in the muck as the sounds of the screaming monster died away. Eventually she pulled herself up. The web still stuck to her clothes seemed to crinkle and crack, sloughing away into the mire at her feat. Perched not far away sat the lizard, staring at her with glowing gold eyes. If a reptile could smirk…

“Thank you.” 

_The bargain said I must safely lead you to Naravet. I will keep to the bargain._ With a tiny nod the creature, flapped back into the air and set off into the wood. 

Noon had come and gone. Alya had eaten another meal of cold bread and hard cheese. All on foot. Always on foot. The lizard flew slower but never seemed to stop. But, as Alya passed around a massive silver pine, she found the lizard perched on a rock. Its wings wide catching to sun. 

_Over the next hill, there is a great meadow. This is where Naravet dwells. Any further and she will smell you. You will not be safe._

“Thank you. Consider our bargain well satisfied.” The magical snap of the line between them was almost audible. The spell was ended. For a moment silence hung in the air, Alya felt a growing urge to grasp the iron rod, but she hesitated. 

_Why must you bond with Naravet?_

“My family is one of the twelve Dragon Houses of the Empire. But we no longer have a Great Dragon. Without a new Great Dragon we will wither and fall. So I have come to bond with Naravet.” 

_How did Daraset die?_

Alya looked away, she had basically said as much to the creature before. But it felt wrong to speak of it so openly. “My Father had ridden Daraset against an army of rebels. Sorcerers bound to sea serpents on the Islands of Qilay. They won a great victory, but before my father returned to our palace, he and Daraset were ambushed by dragonriders of House ar-Thulani.”

 _Daraset was brought low by lesser dragons?_ The lizard’s nostrils flared. 

Alya nodded, “A dozen of the largest dragons from House ar-Thulani, a third of the wings of their house. But Thulani herself was not among them. Cowards do not risk their Great Dragons. My father and Daraset slew them all, but she was gravely wounded. She passed that night.” And the empire did not yet know that they were at the edge of a civil war between two of the most powerful houses. 

The lizard looked away. But slowly it turned back, and regarded her with narrowed eyes. There was tension in its long body, Alya could see its tail twitching back and forth. It looked ready to pounce. 

_You could bond with me instead._ The lizard drew itself up again and stretched its wings up and out behind it. 

Alya almost shouted at the little spirit. Wizards who bonded with lesser spirits were more common yes, but they were not Dragon Lords. She must become a Dragon Lord. But before she could reproach the creature for its boldness, she did remember she owed it her life. “I could not bond with you,” she replied gently, “I do not know your name.”

_I am Inallian._

Alya’s eyes widened. A spirit’s name held power. With this spirit’s name, there were a dozen spells Alya knew to banish, bind, and chastise. For a spirit to give its name willingly, was no small thing. 

“You are brave Inallian, and I would be proud to bond with you. But I have come for Naravet.” 

Inallian wilted at her rejection. It took a long look at her with its wide golden eyes, before it leaped into the air. With a flash, it disappeared among the trees. 

Alya sighed and began to prepare. 

Alya again laid out her camp stones. In her exhaustion the checklist became necessary. When she sat at the camp’s center, she briefly considered taking a nap. She had walked and tripped and climbed for so long even her bones felt sore. But time, as always remained her greatest enemy. Within her bag she drew a second checklist, three times as long as the one for making camp. First on the list was to drink a vial sewn into the side of her pack. It was a draught of Rest. 

Rest was dangerous, it took a great deal of time to make, including a month spent only sleeping three hours a night. This was only the second vial Alya had ever made successfully. Alya called Water and cast the final spells to bring the potion to its power before downing it in a single gulp. 

She barely had enough time to pull down her small clothes as she voided herself on the ground beside her. The smell was horrific and the color even more so. When she was done, she vomited and lay at the edge of her six-points shaking. But with every breath the pain in her body, the wear on her muscles and mind cleared like the evening fog. After a few long minutes, she stood on far surer legs, all of her little wounds and blisters healed, and feeling like she had spent a week in pure indolence. She was very happy to hit the second point on her checklist, and cast the spells to clean her little campsite. 

From there is was spell after spell. She painted sigils on her skin, adorned herself with protection amulets, and swallowed enough magical draughts to fairly ring with arcane power. With only two things left, she took a moment to stop and prepare herself mentally. This was it. She was either going to die in the next hour or return home to save her family. 

Her penultimate checkpoint was to shed her traveling clothes, and don a steel cloak. While she had hoped to one day wear her father’s cloak, its powers had been marred in the battle that felled him. So instead she wore a cloak from some unnamed ancestor, it was sewn with strange sigils and cut at extremely unfashionable angles. 

As she called Earth, the magic caused the cloak to briefly stiffen, before going slack. Now her garments would deflect swords better than the best maile. She was ready, the only thing left was the box. 

From the very bottom of her pack, Alya drew out a black metal box. Black was perhaps an understatement. The box seemed to drink in the light. As she held it up, she felt a small snarl on her wards as the box pushed on them. The box was made from Caradene Lead, mined from the blasted Plains of Caraden. The box bore no sigils, it could not. The metal was anathema to magic. Inside was her secret weapon, the frozen heart of an Ice Giant. 

Alya had no idea how or when the family came into possession of the strange object. Truth be told, she didn’t even know the family had it until a few months back, when tension with the ar-Thulani was on the rise. 

Ice Giants were strange elemental titans from the far north. Somewhere among the glaciers, there were places like the Far Wood which linked the lands of men to the Fimbul Realms of EverWinter. In an unlucky century, a group of Ice Giants would cross over, and begin to move south towards the Empire. Only the fire of Great Dragons had even the slightest chance of bringing them low. Alya shivered to imagine the cost in men, magic, and dragons her family had paid to obtain it. 

With box in fixed to her belt, Arya stepped out from between the camp stones. No use in cleaning up her pack now. She would either be dead soon or have time afterward, she strode up the hill past line of ancient trees into the meadow. 

Only to find it empty. 

For a moment, Alya’s face grew hot. Gods be damned, Inallian had tricked her! But at the center of the wide meadow there was a bare stone outcrop larger than house, and all around it she could see bones. Thousands of charred and ash-white bones. This was certainly the dwelling place of a Great Dragon. 

As she prepared herself to wait, the warm light from the sun on the open meadow darkened, and a great shadow swept across the field. 

**Who dares disturb me?**

The mind-voice echoed across her body, and shook Alya to her toes. She felt a small pang of relief that the draught of Rest had emptied her completely. 

Naravet alighted on the outcropping, her scales shimmered red and purple, like a bloody dark reflection of her now dead sister. The Great Dragon was easily as tall as the highest tower in the Palace ar-Daraset. When she opened her wings, Alya felt a great gust of wind roll across the meadow as the sun was blotted out. 

**Who dares disturb me?**

Alyas lips moved but there was only silence. She took another deep breath and tried to speak in a voice that was loud and clear if a little hoarse, “I am Alya ar-Daraset, daughter of the Dragon Lord Idaris. I have come to offer the Great Naravet my bond.”

The dragon gave a throaty growl with the sound of distant thunder. **Another of my sister’s bondsmen have come to claim me. If she loved your house, she would not send so many to their doom.**

“Then you refuse?” 

Alya had never heard a dragon laugh. It sounded like an avalanche. 

**Yes.**

Alya shook her head and began the Bond Chant. It was a long and difficult spell at the best of times, this was not the best of times. 

Naravet raised her shoulders, and arched her neck. It was a movement Alya was well familiar with. With no other choice she broke off the Bond Chant and began to run, her steps sped by magic. She knew she had little hope of avoiding the fire, but her best chance was to avoid getting it full on. 

Naravet’s great snout shot down and forward, and her mouth opened to reveal a cavern of swords. Alya ducked lower and continued to run. Dragon fire often sounds like a cyclone, but this was the shattering of mountains and the roar of the sea all in one. A wave of blue-white fire poured down across the meadow behind Alya as she dodged among the trees. 

Though she had missed the brunt of it, Naravet flicked her head like a snake, and sent fire cascading over her back. Alya felt the lines of fire protection she wore melt off. A small garnet she had pinned to her shirt shattered, slicing lines across her breast and chin. But even as she cried out, she felt the heat and air blast her from the ground and send her hurtling through the air. 

The trees behind her did not merely burn, they exploded. The water inside boiled, sending ten thousand firey splinters into her back. As they hit her cloak, she felt them like a hard summer rain beating against her, but the cloak held and she was not killed instantly. As she sailed through the air, she screamed in a voice that felt silent in the clamour and roar. But the spell worked, and a frozen breeze carried her across the meadow and away from raining destruction. 

Alya landed and rolled. Coming back up to her feet. Naravet roared and whirled around to track her, stepping down from her perch and bounding over to her like a cat trotting up for a kill.   
Alya went to a knee and dug a hand into the soil. From far beneath the earth a column of bedrock speared upward, knocking the great dragon to the side. Naravet bared her teeth and broke the stone with an errant swipe of her clawed foreleg. The delay was only momentary, as the dragon surged forward. Its massive serpentine head snapped out with a bite. 

Alya jumped back like a grasshopper sailing high into the air above the dragon whose momentum took her through trees and carved a great furrow in the hillside. With rapid sweeping motions of her arms, the young wizard gathered a blast of wind behind her, and rocketed to the other side of the meadow landing high up in a tree. 

Naravet lifted up from the earth and shook herself, casting about. As her wings opened the meadow fell again into darkness, and Alya hung on for dear life as the trees swayed in the tempest.   
With a crack like a thunderclap, Naravet gave a great flap of her wings and shot up into the air. With another flap she was high above the meadow, her molten bronze eyes began searching again.   
Alya place her hand on the tree trunk, and felt the ancient oak shudder as she called its Water. All of it. In a scant second the tree became first a waterfall and then a leafless bone-white hand scratching towards the sky. 

Alya brought her hand to her lips and blew, which caused a cascade of fog to roll out from the tree and bury the meadow in roiling white. 

Far above Naravet roared and beat at the clouds below with her great leathery wings. 

But this was a fog born of magic and would not be scattered by even the greatest thunderstorm. Alya groaned softly as she leaped down from the tree and began blindly running again across the meadow. 

Although the Dragon was out of sight, Alya could feel the faint traces of a connection between them through the magic of the broken Bond Chant. Sightless, Alya began the complex movements of her hands through the soupy white fog and continued the chant. 

**Wizard! You will not bind me so easily.**

A hot wind sent her cloak fluttering, but Alya did not stop. The air around her began to whistle and the top soil began to sputter through the air and Alya did not stop. The fog began to thin, and Alya--eyes wide--did not stop. 

The fog seemed to swirl and the cloud lifted, and Alya did not stop. Instead she looked up in horror as the cloud she had summoned was pulled from the land, and inhaled into what seemed the tireless lungs of the Great Dragon hovering above the meadow. 

In a single long whistling breath, the last bits of the cloud were pulled into Naravet’s maw, before she shut her mouth and released a gout of steam and smoke from her nostrils. 

Alya was alone in an empty meadow, nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, staring up at the dragon hovering just above the treeline, blocking out the sun. Her chant faltered. 

Distant thunder rolled through Naravet’s belly as the dragon stared down at her with molten bronze eyes. Naravet’s neck pulled back, before her mouth opened and Alya watched her death volcano down from above. 

In desperation she opened the large box buckled to her belt, and thrust her hand inside. Before she could grasp anything, her hand went numb. Then her arm. Then her chest began to ache. Her free hand she held up, a final warding gesture for the endless torrent of fire the rained down on her. 

Alya was struck both deaf and dumb in the endless roar and bright. She could feel in the vibrations of her feet as the earth around her melted and roiled. Even the air around her seemed thick and strange. But somehow, she was not incinerated. 

Frozen numb cold poured over her limbs and into the air around her. She pulled with everything she had from the heart, raising barrier after barrier as each melted away. Eventually the fire abated and she stood on the last patch of earth in a field of molten lava. Whatever she had held in her hand in the box collapsed like a snowball on a hot day. 

Alya fell to her knees as she watched the dragon descend to its stony perch, a lonely mountain in a lake of fire.

**You have lasted longer than most. But all mortal things must die.**

Naravet opened her wings which seemed to glow as they reflected the fire below, and leaned forward. But, just as she seemed to pounce, a massive form blurred the air and slammed into her side knocking her to the earth and sending her rolling through the firey lake and trees. 

The Great Dragon roared a challenge, and turned to see another smaller serpentine figure standing in the lava field. The second dragon, glared at Naravet before turning to look at Alya with great golden eyes. 

“I-Inallian?”

_I told you, I was not little._

Naravet rolled over, cracking trees, and began to gallop forward. But, before the larger dragon could reach them, Inallian darted forward and snatched up Alya with a gentle claw. Lifting her from the lake of fire as she shot up into the sky. 

“How?” Alya stammered. 

_You mortals know much of our kind, but forget that here we are far more spirit than flesh, and I even more so._

Inallian beat her wings, and with every beat she moved further and further into the sky. Alya looked down and saw the Far Wood below. An endless ocean of green and gray that seemed to roll on forever in every direction. 

But, while she marveled at the lands below, a familiar shadow cast took shape over the treetops and she watched Naravet climb into the sky after them. 

**You will not escape!** great dragon bellowed a challenge. 

Inallian dove and spun, which despite years of flying practice, gave Alya light-headed vertigo. From a direction that made her stomach heave, a bolt of fire lanced through the sky up at them. 

Though Inallian was smaller, she was far more agile, the dragon’s wings pulled tight and she dropped like stone before, snapping them open and surge upward and dodge Naravet’s white-hot breath. Alya’s vision grew blurred as the pair hurtled over the forest and up into the clouds. 

**You cannot protect her. I will come for you Alya ar-Daraset.** Naravet’s mind voice no longer shouted but rumbled with inevitability of the incoming tide. 

Alya moaned, as she felt the bits of magic from the Bond Chant begin to pull on her. Soon, Inallian no longer darted as fast as she had. Alya was becoming a lodestone that would drag them down. 

_Alya._ Inallian’s voice was somewhere between apology and plea.

From deep in her chest she felt a familiar stirring of determination. She was Alya ar-Daraset. She would not fail. Slowly she began the Bond Chant. Not with the pieces she had before, but all anew. This time with a different name. 

On and on she went, and felt now something new. A steady beat of warmth. It was like a forge flame at the bellows. In and out, in and out. Growing stronger and hotter with every beat. 

She could feel Naravet closing in on her, but it no longer seemed as dreadful. Inallian dipped and released her, and for a moment it felt like she was flying beside the dragon, before she landed gingerly like a feather on the dragon’s back as Inallian spun in the air. 

With her feet around Inallian’s back, she felt the chant come to an end, and now her heart beat with the forge bellows, the spark of Inallian’s essence. 

She called Air, and felt it billow beneath Inallian’s wings. Suddenly the dragon winged about and shot forward. Flying directly at their roaring pursuer. 

She called Earth and felt Inallian’s scales grow hard, and her claws razor sharp. 

She called Water and watched as clouds began to buffet the surety from Naravet’s wings. 

She called Fire, and felt it grow within the dragon beneath her. Hotter and stronger than ever before. As the pair of dragons met far above the Far Wood, Inallian roared out a conflagration, and Alya roared with him. 

“I am the Dragon Lord Alya ar-Inallian! And we will not fail!”

Fire flashed and claws sang, and a red shadow tumbled to the forest below. 

Hours later, Alya rested against Inallian’s warm breast in a different meadow. The pair lay next to a Waystone, the one that would soon call them home, call them to war. 

Alya couldn’t help but admire her new bond. Her scales were a scintillating green and gold. Like the forest on a summer afternoon. Though she was smaller than Naravet or Daraset, she was still titanic, at least two hundred feet long. 

And yet, she was somehow insubstantial. Dreamlike. 

“You seem... different than other Great Dragons I’ve seen. Even after the bonding you’re still more spirit than flesh.” 

There was a soft breeze and Alya’s back hit the grass. Confused she rolled over to see Inallian curled up next to her, no larger than a house cat, staring at her with wide golden eyes. 

Can dragons smile? 


End file.
